


This Male has Overslept

by BurnerAccount



Series: Naga Adventures [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Adventure, M/M, Miscommunication, Monsters, Naga, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Protip it's the human, Someone is an Idiot, two Dicks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-11
Updated: 2017-04-11
Packaged: 2018-10-15 22:35:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10558832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BurnerAccount/pseuds/BurnerAccount
Summary: This male naga has overslept. Now, the season is almost over.Luckily, there's a brave adventurer nearby! Ready and willing to wake him with Love's First Annoyance.





	

This?

Is the mark of a _monster_.

Max plants a foot on the edge of the cave entrance, hands resting on his hips. Ready for anything.

The sun beats down on his back, but the spring air is cool enough to be invigorating. The breeze blows gently enough to ruffle his hair. And in front of him lies a deep, dry burrow. It gapes like a wound in the side of this grassy, peaceful hill. Max narrows his eyes.

“It’s about time you faced me again,” he mutters. And he strides, fearlessly, forward.

He balances his pack over his shoulders as he steps in, across the straight stone surface - then sets a foot on the incline, and braces himself for the slide. He has to catch his balance in a few places, where his feet catch on a bump or two - nearly falls on his face once, he flails his arms.

There’s no footholds here. Only steep, smooth stone, making it hard to clamber out. _Entering_ a den is easy. Escape’s the tricky part. Especially for something with _feet_. Stairs are only an inconvenience for the creature living here.

At the end of the tunnel, feet meeting a level surface - Max stumbles a bit before finding his balance. He takes a couple, careful steps forward, staring at the obstacle in front of him - and taps a foot against the stone. If he needs to get out again, that’ll be a pain. He doesn’t want to leave, but he might not be - He reaches out, shoulders tensing.

The door pushes open easily under his palm, glowing when he touches it.

Max can’t help but smile. Still has the magical keys. That’s welcome enough. Time to invite himself in.

Inside, it’s dark. Walls barely visible through dim greenish light. For a cave, it’s remarkably well decorated. The stone is carved out in here, corridors leading to other rooms. The main room is packed mostly with bookshelves, with a set of cubbyholes for scrolls.

Max shrugs his pack off his shoulder, leans it against the wall, and looks around.

None of the lights are on. Strange. Aside from the dull magical glow from some of the wall hangings, it’s dim. Kind of cozy, really. Warmer than outside. A burrow off to the left leads to what passes for a kitchen, too - Though it could be a better one. Honestly, a lot of things in this dwelling could be better, if this jerk would just accept a bigger gift or two once in awhile.

Max clears his throat, holding a fist up to his mouth, and sterns his face. Very dark in here though. Very dangerous. Max is _adventuring_.

He stalks closer, and rests a hand on the hilt on his belt. The back of the main room is almost untouched by the light. A low indentation in the rock is filled with a large, uneven mass.

The _nest_.

Something ripples and twitches inside that hollow dent in the stone, noticing a disturbance. Shifting, very slowly, almost imperceptible in the dim light. Tiny glints flick over the lazy mass of the body, as light reflects off its scales.

This is it. Max draws his sword slowly, relishing the sound of metal against scabbard.

“Avaunt, monster!” Max’s voice echoes, loud and powerful, in these closed rooms. “Your reign of terror is over, and I,” He pulls in a breath, shouting- “Am here to vanquish you!”

There’s a long silence.

Max adjusts his grip a few times, waiting.

Keeping this stance up for much longer is going to make his muscles ache. Holding up a big piece of metal at the end of your arm isn’t an easy job. Max shifts, waits for a beat or two longer. He clears his throat.

“Here to…” He starts. And trails off.

More silence. No motion.

Max groans, tilting his head back, and slides the stupid sword back into the scabbard at his hip. He unbuckles it from his belt, casting it aside with a clatter. He stalks forward across the floor, kneels at the edge of the pit, and gives one of those looped coils a shove.

“Zeph! You slug!”  

They’re meeting, _again_! It’s been a whole winter since they’ve seen each other - it’s been what seems like forever! That was _supposed_ to be funny.

No response.

“Get up, lazy!” Max tries another shove. He kicks his feet against the floor, leaning his weight into his next push, and grunts, frustrated, as the long tail slides away. “C’mon, it’s been months!”

The body shifts under his hands when disturbed. Repositioning, sliding over itself in sinuous circles. Underneath the stony scales - it has the give of the living thing it is. Hitting it a couple of times doesn’t do a thing. With Zeph’s mouth half open, his human part draped over his tail like that - Max is fairly certain his friend’s going to drool on himself in a second.

Max slaps a hand over his face, and sighs.

Why the hell is Zeph so conked out. He should be _anything_ but sluggish at the moment.

When they met last summer, things were. Tense. For a while. Maybe dangerous, but it worked out well!

And ever since then… Hell, Max can’t count the number of times he’s had to fend off another of Zeph’s kind, even when making a friendly visit. But that was last _fall_ , when they’re all endless stomachs with scales. Winter slows them down.

Now it’s spring. The long sleep should have been over. Max set out to meet his friend, and anyone else could be damned. He had his sword at hand to protect himself. He could stride through the valley with confidence, and…

Slowed in his steps after a while, confused at the sheer quiet.

The valley’s full of snake people. Riddled with them. Searching for one wasn’t the brightest idea, maybe, but. Not running into _any_ was more worrying than encountering _some_  So... Max kept looking.

And discovered precisely _why_ things are so calm. For the moment.

That image is probably never leaving his brain.

“I thought I’d run into trouble again, now that the weather’s warm. But...” Max tilts his head grinning. “Seems like it’s a busy time of year.” He elbows Zeph in the side a couple of times, looking for a reaction.

Steady breathing, a slow roll of the tail - not truly conscious. Max glares at the human-ish part of his friend, but it’s still unresponsive.

He turns around and rests against the cool, heavy coils of his friend, pushing aside some of the cloth of the bedding. When he props his elbows up on the tail - it’s moving, very slightly, with Zeph’s slow breathing and general squirminess.

Max glances over at that sleeping face. This is a rare opportunity.

Heck, why not.

Zeph’s scales are smooth, sliding pleasantly under his touch as he runs his hand down them. Max sighs out a breath, smiling slightly. Zeph feels nice. Firm, and silky, with strong muscles under his hide.

Meawhile, Zeph mutters something incoherent. His arms tighten around his tail, and the tip twitches at nothing in particular. Obviously Max isn’t bothering him. He’s comfy. If anything, he pushes _up_ into the touch, his tail rolling into the press of Max’s palm.

Since there’s no protest - Max hums innocently, and traces a couple fingers along the place where scale meets skin.

The texture is different here. Soft, yet still smooth. Both surfaces are lean under his touch, it’s too easy to feel muscle or bone underneath them. Zeph’s lost some weight during the winter. Max frowns. Is that typical? He trails his fingers down, over those harder scales underneath -

And stops, tucking his hands in his lap and clearing his throat.

Until a couple hours ago, he wouldn’t have been able to tell _where_ would be an… indelicate place to put a hand on a naga. Now he does.

 _Manners_ , Max reminds himself, and smacks himself on the forehead. He is a _noble_ adventurer, not some cad who pinches some innocent barmaid just to see her shriek.

Not that Zeph is a maid of any sort. Not innocent in the slightest, either. He’s nothing less than a heavily muscled creature, that could easily crush Max’s bones in his grip. Max can’t imagine Zeph shrieking at anything, either! Only staring it down, unblinking. He never even _needs_ to blink. For all Max knows, if he _did_ touch, it’d be like he patted someone on their platemail, what with that armored underbelly.

But the principle of the thing still applies, Max is sure. Noble, yes. _Respectful_ of his friend’s strange body. Which by all accounts should be a -

Should be _roused_ at the moment, what is going _on_ with him. Max taps a finger on his chin.

He gets a few moments to mull over that thought, before he startles, fumbling for balance as his living armrest slips away. Max topples back completely, lying in the bedding. Flat on his back like this -  it should be worrying.

He looks up and smiles instead, almost laughing, at the grumpy, sleepy glare focused on him. Zeph raised up now, pinning Max with a hand on his shoudler, slightly leaned over him.

“Max,” Zeph says, low. He leans in a bit closer, tail starting to writhe.

This angle makes Zeph look rather intimidating - but Max has seen this before, nothing bad will happen now. He gives his friend a wave, smiling.

Months of bedhead have built up, and Zeph’s more tousled than Max has ever seen him. Watching Zeph squinting, trying to focus his view, almost going crosseyed in tired confusion -

Hell, nobody could blame Max for being amused.

“Ready to join the land of the living again?” It’s about _time_ Zeph got up. He prods him gently with an elbow, still lying flat. “Good morning!”

Zeph raises himself up a few more inches, blinking. He puffs out some breath, blowing away hair from his face, and shakes his head. Clearly drowsy, not all there - then he narrows his eyes, squinting in confusion. After a second, he almost looks surprised.

“Max?”

 _There_ he is.

“Good to see you! Though...” Max makes a motion like he’s checking a pocketwatch, holding back how hard he wants to smile. “You’re about two weeks too late for anything.” He tucks the imaginary object away. “I think everyone’s found a partner by now."

“I-” Zeph rubs at his eyes. He has to take a second, blinking. His arms drop a couple of times, he almost lowers himself down again - then finally Zeph looks at Max with some manner of ‘awake’, and frowns.  

“What. Are you doing here,” asks Zeph, flat. His body slithers to bring himself fully upright. While Max is lying down like this, Zeph towers over him.

“I came to visit.” Max pats his friend on the side. It’s been so long! “ _Someone_ had to wake you, or you’d lie there forever.”

There’s a brief pause. Then Max grunts, as Zeph rather deliberately slithers over his legs on the way out of his nest.

“Alright,” Zeph mumbles. He waves it off as he slides, slow and lazy, into the greater room. He stretches his arms wide, then forward. Loosening up, joints cracking. “It’s. Good to see you.” Zeph runs a hand through his hair. He slithers over to a mirror on the wall. Squinting at himself, then glancing drowsily over his shoulder. “But you could have kept adventuring for a week or two. It’s too early in the spring for this.”

And _that’d_ sound like a lie, even if Max _hadn’t_ recently learned the truth.

“Early?” Max scrambles up after Zeph. “If anything it’s _late_.” He sees his friend bend over a little, frowning. “You’re tough to rouse, but doesn’t...” Max waves a hand, trying to gesture the feeling. He’s not eloquent, like Zeph. But with what everyone else is up to - “Doesn’t. Stuff. Get your blood up?”

Zeph slaps himself on the face, and swears quietly. He turns away, messes with his already ruffled hair.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He mutters.

Another lie. Max rolls his eyes.

“You don’t need to be embarrassed, Zeph,” He trots over and glances at himself in the mirror over Zeph’s shoulder- smiles and waves at his reflection, while Zeph stays slumped. “I... _may_ have seen a couple of your fellow nagas on the way over.”

Zeph groans. He’s been caught and knows it, his shoulders tense. “You weren’t supposed to know about- about any of that.” He braces his hands on the edge of the shelf in front of the mirror. “Ignore it.”

That’s confusing! Max may not know books, like Zeph does. But if there’s _anything_ Max knows, it’s monsters! The ones that _have_ wits, _and_ something like what Zeph’s going through, which is-  Max should use discretion -  

A… Time of interest. A courting occasion. A… Max raises one finger in the air, and frowns.

Hell, he'll call it what it is.  
  
A _rut._

Which _Zeph_ has apparently decided he can ignore. Max watches his friend’s face in the mirror. Zeph looks calm, as he brushes out the knots in his hair. He glances over at Max after a few moments, then stares steadfastly forward.

Max frowns. Zeph seems. Frustrated, slightly. But that might only be because he was forced to get up, while he was napping, while...

Skipping out on his people’s biggest event of the year.

...That must be lonely.

“You’re missing out,” Max starts.

"Yes. I’m ‘missing out’,” Zeph says, cutting Max off before he can continue. He sounds grumpy. “On having other males trying to _fight_ me, and females trying to- ” He sets his brush down with a deliberate click on the stone. “Slither over me. While they all smell like -” Zeph rubs at the bridge of his nose, as it wrinkles up. “I don’t want a clutch of eggs, Max.” He waves off the idea, looking disgusted. “The whole pheromone-fueled mess can go hang.”

Max raises an eyebrow. Reasonable enough! ”But _after_ spring-” When it’s _not_ instinct -

“ _Outside_ of the season, they’re all charmless,” Zeph states. He breathes in slow - lets it out even slower. “It’s not important.”

It’s not unimportant! _Every_ monster wants a mate! Having a season for finding one isn’t _common,_  but it’s not unheard of. _Monsters_ have _instincts_ -

Max snaps his fingers, realizing.

Of _course_ Zeph would avoid this. All of it.

Something so base, and animal. Working on _instinct,_ because of the weather or…. Whatever drives his species to distraction. Losing his control. His composure. Giving into an impulse, wrapped up in a moment of _desire_ , with someone he might not even know.

Skipping things by dozing through it can’t be _comfortable_ \- But Zeph gets to keep his vaunted dignity in return.

Max narrows his eyes.

But even _outside_ of the season, Zeph’s not seeking out a mate. He admitted it himself! There’s something _else_ going on here.

Max opens his mouth to speak, to offer advice, he’s no stranger to seduction! He holds onto Zeph’s shoulders, smiling cheerfully, while Zeph-

Stares at himself in the mirror, face tense. Gripping hard on the edge of the counter, white-knuckled.

Max shuts his jaw with a click. He clears his throat, and pats his hand against Zeph’s back. Hell, Zeph’s always complained about his lack of tact.

Change of subject. “I’ll go make tea.”

“Yes. Perfect.” Zeph slumps, forehead thudding against the mirror, eyes shut. He makes a face, and resumes his slow grooming. “Thank you.”

Yes, Max can _do_ this tactful thing!

He hums to himself as he enters the kitchen - then glances over his shoulder. It’s oddly quiet behind him - But, no. Zeph isn’t snoring against the mirror. Just too tired to straighten himself up properly. Max snorts, and shakes his head.

It’s honestly relaxing, to distract himself this way. Set up the water, measure out some leaves. He’s done this dozens of times, the ritual helps him settle down.

Max watches the kettle, frowning, and thinks.

Zephyrus - for that’s his full name - with his odd black-white pattern, its mottled bits of grey, is the biggest, strangest, most attractive - Max only judges that part _objectively_ \- naga on record. He could have anyone! What these things look for in a lover is -

Well, certainly if they have to _fight_ for a mate, Zeph could beat any other snake to a pulp. He could have anyone he wanted! And with everything else about him, it’s not like anyone with any sense would turn him down!

If they were a naga.

Max listens to the sounds of Zeph muttering to himself, sliding around his home. Sleepily finding things to correct - and by the noise of it, things to accidentally knock over. Max snorts.

Clumsier than usual, though Zeph always fumbles around a bit after a nap. Long one like this, of course he’d be awkward! Max has learned a ton about Zeph since they met.

Now, he’s beginning to think it was good they met in summer.

During autumn, Zeph would have been eternally hungry, seeking out food. Not that he eats humans... but it wouldn’t have helped. And during winter, Max wouldn’t have ever run across Zeph, he’d be too busy sleeping the cold nights away. If it had been _spring_.  

In the spring, Zeph would have been _searching_.

That could have gone…

The water slowly darkens as the tea steeps in the pot. Max stares, and shifts in place.

That could have gone differently.

Max doubts he would have heard Zeph slithering up behind him, until it was too late.

He’d turn around at the last moment - startle at the sight of Zeph in front of him. Already he’d be reaching for his weapon. But Zeph would be too close, his slit-pupiled eyes wide.

Max would fumble. Drop his sword when Zeph shoved him down - not that Max _ever_ loses his sword, but. Certainly he’d be startled, it might slip out of his grip if someone like _Zeph_ hit him hard enough. And then….

He would lie there in the grass, one hand scrambling around for his weapon. Zeph’s hands braced on his shoulders, this huge, terrifying naga staring down at him. Breathing heavily, his slightly split tongue licking over his all-too-human lips. That long tail would writhe between Max’s legs. Zeph would be full of the… feeling of the season. Would he be -

Max doesn’t know _precisely_ what it looks like, only slightly where it _is,_  he couldn’t tell much from earlier, didn’t stick around to find out.

And Max

Shakes his head to clear it.

What he _should_ do is pour the tea now. Not get distracted by impossible ideas. He fumbles through the cupboards, cups clinking. Nearly drops one, he catches it after a couple alarming grabs. He sets the cups down on the counter, and this time his grip his firm.

Zeph’s tail grips things.

It’d curl around Max’s legs. To bring him closer. Hold him in place.

Max, of course, wouldn’t recognize the meaning. He’d push against the hands on his shoulders, kick at the strong tail around his legs. That’d be pointless. Zeph’s scales are so smooth, he’d find zero purchase on them. He’d only end up stroking along Zeph’s sides, again, and again.

Zeph would have hissed, leaning down, tongue flicking out between his lips, leaning in. Their faces close, breath hot between them. “Max,” He’d say, softly. Maybe. Maybe sounding  _desiring._

And Max could run his hands - not only over Zeph’s scales, but over his human-looking back. Cup the back of Zeph’s neck, and shut his eyes. Relax his legs. Just to make Zeph more comfortable. And let the snake grab whatever he needed to, because -

Max stands in the kitchen, blinking blankly at the wall.

The tea has been done for a while now, he ignores it, then flinches because there’s a quiet swear from the living room.

Odd, it didn’t sound like like Zeph broke anything, and he rarely says anything vulgar.

Max takes in a slow breath, and lets it out just as slowly. Adjusting his pants is…. awkward. That was a stupid idea and -  and a very indelicate one at that.

Zeph has _perfectly natural_ instincts, and Max shouldn’t think too hard about them. That’d be a terrible display of friendship. Intruding on his privacy like that. Max can’t presume that anything besides another naga could... _satisfy_.

It’s insulting to his friend, in any case, to think that Zeph would be rude enough to not _ask_. Not that he _would_ ask. Zeph is very much content to be a bachelor.

...And he's silent in the main room.Not just that he’s not bumping into things in a sleepy haze. Now, he’s not moving around at all.

Forget the tea. Something might be wrong.

Max leans back into the main room, hand braced against the doorway feeling concerned. “Zeph?” But when he looks -

No, Zeph’s just lying in his bed, and that’s not strange. He loves napping. Draped over himself again, eyes shut. The tip of his tail swipes restlessly over the cloth in his nest. Max snorts softly, and strides back up to this big, lazy slug of a naga. What a ridiculous scaly lump.

There’s no chance he’s going to let his friend settle down and pass out on him, _again_. Zeph’s had months upon months of rest! It’s time to get up and greet the day.

Max gives part of that long tail a gentle nudge with his foot, nowhere near a kick. “I thought you were up, Zeph, don’t crawl back in bed.” He keeps his voice stern, but the corner of his mouth quirks up. “C’mon, I’ve got something nice for you.”

Zeph gives a soft ‘hmph’. Eyes still closed. Not entirely asleep - not getting up either. Weirdly, he shuffles himself down into his nest more. “’m fine.”

He doesn’t _sound_ fine.  

Max raises an eyebrow, then kneels, very carefully, near the curled form of his friend. From what he can see - That’s at least discomfort on Zeph’s face. Resting a hand on his shoulder, he gives his friend a small shake. “Are you alright?”

There's a quiet noise, just this side of uncomfortable.

Damned if this snake isn’t frustrating sometimes! All Max wants to do is _help_! Though it’s not likely... there’s been plenty of time for Zeph to run into trouble, since Max last saw him. Ah, hell, and it’s not like Max could see any bruising, not underneath those scales, and it's not like Zeph’d ever _admit_ any hurt. Or ask for help. Stubborn, selfless -

Max touches Zeph's back, gently. Nothing on the human bit, it seems - he runs his hand down over the scales. “Does it hurt somewhere?" He squeezes a few times, then strokes more, tracing over the length of Zeph’s body. If he’s healing, a spot or two on him will feel warmer to the touch. "Anything swollen?”

Zeph hunches over more, making a soft grunt - he curls up tighter.

Oh hell, what if Max touching Zeph _makes_ him hurt. He lets up.

“What’s bothering you?” Max leans against his friend, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. This half-hug probably won't hurt him. But Zeph’s tight with tension, and Max doesn’t know what to do. Maybe Zeph wasn’t napping to get away from instinct, or from the fights. Maybe he’s - Max tucks his other arm around Zeph’s shoulders, holding him closer, and the soft sound Zeph makes - Is it bad? Is it serious?

Damn it, _something’s_ wrong. Max can’t tell what. He’s never tried to _help_ a monster, besides Zeph. The most he knows is where to best stab a blade into something, that’s hardly going to solve this!

“Tell me what you need.” He pats Zeph weakly on the chest. Monsters have strange needs, but Max can travel. Maybe there’s some exotic herb, or complicated spell - “I could get you a bandage. Or medicine!”

“Or kiss me better, why don’t you,” Zeph mutters. Then he swears, very quietly, and slaps a hand over his face.

Max straightens up, confused. That doesn’t make sense. “What?”

“Nothing,” Zeph says, quickly, and tense. “That’s a human phrase. I was-” He seems to struggle with himself. “Weren’t you making tea? Why don’t-” He tucks his head down. “You should do that.”

Max stares.

He’s never seen Zeph looking like this. A palm pressed against his face, grimacing. Angry… but only at _himself_. Tense with - god, that’s embarrassment, isn’t it? Because he suggested -

“Kiss,” Max repeats, slowly.

He said.

And is embarrassed about it, for some reason.

Because he’s in the middle of -

Max slaps Zeph on the back, feeling proud, and pleased. Zeph really _is_ a genius. 

“That’s a _fantastic_ idea!” Max grips the bottom of his shirt, and pulls it up over his head.

This is perfect! A solution to both their problems. If Zeph wants something, well... Max wants something, too, and they’re friends, aren’t they? All Max wants is to _help!_ And Zeph suggested it! Maybe he wasn’t entirely serious - but Max can put himself out there, he can stand rejection! A ‘no’ would be… disappointing, but he’s no stranger to adventure, or taking risks.

Max beams, and tosses his shirt into Zeph’s nest.

The clothing lands in a heap in front of Zeph’s face. Zeph startles back, rising up in what might be alarm. He stares at the pile of cloth like it’s a trap.

Max shuffles out of his pants - they trail over his ankle, it takes a few extra kicks to shake them off - and he’s left in his underclothes.

Zeph has turned around. He’s oddly still, as he watches the trousers kicked away. He starts to say something - stops. His mouth works. He seems even more disoriented than just after he woke up. It’s like he’s been knocked upside the head with a rock.

Not... the most encouraging response. Max grins at him anyway.

But an adventurer always has a _plan of attack_ , and Max follows through on his. It’s simple as anything, to cup that face in both palms. It’s not like Zeph resists. He follows easily, uncoiling as Max pulls him in.

And.

It’s nice. Warm, and pleasant.

Zeph’s mouth is surprisingly soft, where the rest of his body is hard scale, and muscle. Max can even get closer, when those lips part slightly. It might be from surprise. Zeph’s tongue feels strange, too. But slick against Max’s, and warm. And when Zeph surges up, Max has to fumble, his hands catch themselves on Zeph’s shoulders. There’s a strong arm, curling around the back of his head, holding him in.

He didn’t know if these creatures kissed, and it’s delightful to find out that at least _Zeph_ does. Max leans into that, almost falls into it -

Right before Zeph pulls back sharply, without warning. So fast that Max almost falls forward, he has to catch himself on what - isn’t Zeph’s waist, since he technically doesn’t have one.

“Wait. Wait.” Zeph blinks rapidly, shakes his head. He’s breathing rapidly now, but he holds Max back when he tries to lean in to kiss again, one hand on his chest.

“Why not?” Max squeezes his friend gently, hands on his scales. They’re so smooth, and he’s enjoying how Zeph feels.

“You can’t. This - This is.” Zeph almost sounds angry now, sliding back. “You’re leaping into -  this isn’t an _adventure_ , Max.” He gestures, but it’s weak and vague. His arms drop. “I…” He tries to wave some meaning across, even weaker than before.

“You?” Max asks. He tilts his head to one side. “What’s the problem?” This doesn't make sense.

Zeph tries to gesture - tries to speak - he fumbles, fails, he ends up staring. His pupils are wide “I can. _Smell_ it on you. There’s...” He says, eventually, leaning into his own hands. Slowly breathing in through his mouth. He twitches, briefly.  “And I’m…”

The sentence doesn’t get completed. Zeph lowers his head and hisses softly. Strain is clear on his face.

Max rolls his eyes. He can fill in the blank. ‘Going to be the better man’.

God, this stubborn snake. Part of it makes Max feel warm, anyway. Max is only human, and mostly naked. His sword is halfway across the room. If Zeph chose to take that moment as an... _invitation_. If he let _instinct_ take over - Well, so much for Max having an out.

Zeph’s being so _noble_. Trying to be _respectful_ , despite urges driving him onward. Struggling, obviously, Zeph keeps writhing in a way that makes Max sure he wants to _strike_ \- and stopping himself before he follows through. There’s a lot of twitching going on.

Max licks his lips.

There’s something about Zeph looking so completely caught _off-guard_ like this that makes part of Max want to take the opening, and _attack_. In a _good_ way of attacking, because it’s _Zeph_. Who’s, really.  

 _Not_ a monster. Even if his body’s different. Definitely the parts won’t be the same as the other men Max has taken to bed. Which could be strange. But Zeph…

He’s really very handsome. He’s smart, and strong, and…. happens to have a snake half. And he goes into rut, which is, yes, different. But he _wants_ , and Max wants _him,_ too!

This was such a fantastic idea! Honestly… Max isn’t sure why he hadn’t tried this before! If he’d only _known_ Zeph might be interested, then. Well.

Well, no time like the present.

“You look good like this,” The words drop out of Max’s mouth without him thinking, he cups Zeph’s face again. His snake looks back at him, some of the tension dropping out of him. If what Zeph wants is an invite. To be sure Max _really_ wants this  - He smiles. “And I think _you_ should kiss _me_ now.” 

There’s a moment or two when he thinks Zeph’s going to protest. A few stutters. A hand lifted. Zeph’s tongue runs over his lower lip.

Then Zeph’s arms are around Max’s neck, his mouth against his own. Part of Zeph’s tail is wrapping around his waist, tight, too quickly for Max to react. He’s shoved backward by the weight of Zeph’s top half, tongue flickering in and out of his mouth - and with a slight pull from Zeph’s tail - Max slips, sliding down until his butt hits the floor, legs spread around his friend. He makes a small sound of protest, but not much. Surprise is the only problem with this.

Startling, certainly. But _now_ there’s a wonderful warm chest to touch, while the scales around him slide and occasionally squeeze. Max goes for it with pleasure.

That human part is _fantastic_. Max could spend hours admiring it, hell, he  _has_ , from a distance. He's felt it before, in brief moments, when he could - and now he can do _anything he wants_. Touch every inch of it, without worrying about offending, and it's delightfully pleasant to slide his hands over Zeph’s chest.  And the whole time, Zeph kisses like he’s _made_ for it. Whether or not Max has a long, scaly tail curled around him, he’s going ahead with this, full-force.

Zeph’s skin is smooth as his scales, in a different way, hot and beautiful. His muscles, so, so nice, his tongue in Max’s mouth does everything right, it’s fun to tangle against. Max trails his hands lower, he pats the scales, for a moment or two, searching. Slides around, looking for -

Searching for -

He pulls back, gasping a little, and glares downward. Max frowns and runs his hands over Zeph's sides. As far as he has sides. It’s not difficult to pull away, because Zeph has, apparently, had a similar idea. He’s staring down between them, looking about as confused as Max feels.

Max hums in thought. Well, if he was going to _help_ , there should be something _to_ help and he can’t see where that should happen.

“Well, uh,” Max rests a palm against Zeph’s stomach, and smiles awkwardly. “Where am I…”

Zeph’s pupils are still wide, but - he shrugs, slightly, plucking at Max’s underclothes. “That-” And he frowns, glaring at the cloth. “I should ask-” He starts, and snaps his mouth shut.

Now he looks awkward. Almost like he’s unsure.

Max almost slaps himself on the face, he’s so frustrated with himself. Zeph doesn’t wear any clothes, much less understand the etiquette. He’s getting hung up on stupid details. Max frowns as Zeph pokes vaguely at his waist. Knowing this should come off, not sure how to accomplish that. And where’s Max supposed to - that’s _all scales,_ he doesn’t know how the… relevant parts come out.

They stare at each other.

Zeph’s look of sheer desire is starting to fade. He frowns at the cloth between him and Max, tugging at it with two fingers, but careful. Not wanting to be _too_ forward

Alright. Screw it. Max wants, he wants _now_ , and. He’s not sure where _Zeph’s_ is, but he can slip his own underclothes off, stand in front of his friend, naked and unashamed. Zeph’s eyes widen.

There. One problem solved.

Max kneels down, and ignores the surprised sound Zeph makes. He slides his hands over this armored front, pressing over every inch of scale. He's going to find the right place, he _knows_ it’s got to be somewhere.

Aha!

“Hello,” Max says with a grin. “ _There_ you are.”

A little pink bud, parting the scales as it emerges. He trails two fingers alongside it.

Zeph’s scales are firm, but where they spread open they're softer underneath. Hotter. And if Max presses, and strokes. That small peak outward starts growing. Rapidly. Max licks his lips.

He nuzzles against Zeph's almost-a-hip, where his scales meet skin. He can kiss there, gently, rubbing his palm near and almost over the gap in Zeph’s scales, urging it out.

Zeph huffs out a breath, sucks it back in. “That’s-” He says softly, and rests a hand over Max’s. “Yes. Like th-” He groans, sudden. Pushing Max’s wrist closer. Forcing his hand to press harder, pushing way more than Max would have done on his own.

Max rubs his hand hard over the scales like Zeph wants, watching with interest. Then with - he swallows dryly- some surprise.

That's.

Getting _bigger_ than it - _they_ first looked.

Max breathes in quickly. He slides his hand up one of them, stroking it, and listens to Zeph groan, grabbing onto his wrist. Max grips it a little tighter, feels Zeph clasp at his shoulders, his arm, and finally at the bedding, body shifting around.

Max can still tighten his grip, and stroke. It slides easily along the already slippery surface of - _one_ of them.

Because there’s a _them_.

 _Two_ , to be precise. The smaller one is already hot and slick in his grip.

Max’s heart is pounding. He takes himself in his free hand, just. Just to hold himself, he has some self-control. He was certain that whatever Zeph had would be decent. With a body like that? With how everything else about him was great? Max was _right_ , but this is much more than he’d bargained for.

He laughs, very quietly. Played a game of chance and won _double_ the usual prize.

Zeph’s slithering over the bedding, but slow. His jaw is clenched. Tail seeking out another to writhe against, to wrap around. All he finds is _human_. Max gets gripped around his middle, over his legs, but he’s too preoccupied to worry about it.

One of Zeph’s dicks is in his hand, slick and hot. Honestly very nice, though the shape is… strange, and new. They look like they could. He can’t imagine what those would feel like, inside of him, they’re. Max can’t decide which one to start with. When it comes to taking someone to bed, he isn’t used to _options_.

Max swallows, licks his lips. “Okay,” He says, and maybe it’s a little breathless. Zeph isn’t squeezing the life out of him, yet, but it’s still tight. “I think I can kiss it better now.”

Zeph blinks at him. Eyes slightly unfocused. He’s twitching - part of him wanting to thrust up into any touch, the sane part of him holding on, tightly.

“What?” The word comes out like a gasp. Zeph’s jaw tenses. “There-” He huffs, trying to be coherent. “You-” He’s confused, he’s trying to make sense of that. “What?” He repeats.

Oh.

If this is a once-in-a-year thing. If this is a _breeding_ thing. Even if Zeph _did_ participate, then a naga would never do this, ever.

That’s practically a _tragedy_.

Max grins, sitting up. That’s _one_ tragedy that he can make right, easy.  
  
“Let me show you.” He murmurs, and leans in to kiss the tip of the larger cock. Just gently. He flicks his tongue against it. Tastes good - he drags his tongue over the tip, slow, testing how this could-

All of Zeph surges up underneath him with a sharp, startled noise, grabbing at the bedding. Max jerks away at the motion, losing his grip.

God, Zeph is. He’s almost pure muscle. Maybe Max can straddle his body, but Zeph lifts him like it’s _nothing_.

“Okay,” Max repeats, almost laughing. He plants his knees on either side of that long body.  He’s ready for it now. There are _two_ of these, and that’s… he’ll take this on. Never let it be said that Max backed down from a challenge. Besides - he grins. “I guess you liked that.”

There’s a light, bright feeling in Max’s chest. Like when he’s facing some new foe, when he can’t tell what to expect - and the only result is going to be a _win_. For both of them. He strokes the smaller cock, slowly. It’s slick already, it takes no effort - the other one, though, needs attention.

He mouths against Zeph’s other length, kissing down it. And when Zeph rolls his body up at the touch - Max rides that, pushing against him. He can even kiss down near the slit where they come out, and it’s softer there. Max dips his tongue into it, licking over that soft, wet flesh -

Zeph makes a noise like he’s been stabbed, shuddering with shock. Now his dicks are even wetter with his sudden, surging response, Max even thinks he can see them pulse - and hear Zeph he knocks  something over as his tail lashes around somewhere behind them.

Max gives the larger cock a few, wet, embarrassingly noisy kisses, admiring, before he pulls it into his mouth. It's thick and smooth and for all that it looks intimidating - Easy to take in. Bigger than most, but wet and slick, and hell, it's _Zeph_.

Max can take it as much as possible, drag his tongue along the underside, suck and stroke, and swallow it in deeper because getting _Zeph_ off  is going to be one of the most satisfying things Max has ever done.

A hand claps against the back of his neck, pulling him in. And _that_  is _absolutely_ a swear.

Zeph, trying to find the right place to grab, and make Max move, shuddering. Stroking through Max’s hair, gripping his arms. Tightening when Zeph shoves up, and falls back again. He’s losing his composure, uncertain and struggling. He makes a long, frustrated noise, and the bedding is being tossed around as he writhes.

Max hums softly, swallowing around this cock, he shifts his legs uncomfortably. He could make Zeph come, like this. Feel him swell and pulse, because Max sucked it out of him, made him feel too great - He shifts, trying to find his balance with a writhing body between his legs.

Hell, Zeph is _panting_ , Max has _never_ heard that before. He grinds against the pressure at his hips, but that comes and goes as Zeph writhes, it’s only teasing.

Zeph’s dicks are already slick, but now Max feels he tip of his own dick starting to leak, he- pushes forward, to get more touch, but there’s nothing to meet it. Pressing against Zeph’s body isn’t _enough_. He’s moving too much, the wriggling bastard.

Max pulls back with a wet 'pop', sitting up and catching his breath.

He needs to _feel_ this. Every bit of it, this cock working into him, touching him inside, he doesn’t know what it’s like - but he _wants_ to.

“What. Are you doing,” Zeph growls. His hands tug harshly, it’s hard to resist, but Max stubbornly keeps his mouth closed - though he can’t resist a couple kisses. Zeph swears, again, and grabs at the bedding, with both hands, jaw clenched. “Don’t _stop_.”

Max has to laugh, just quietly. Still slightly breathless, he scoots up further while Zeph isn’t moving.

“Yeah, alright, just-” Max pauses. He has to spare a second to admire the sight.

Zeph splayed out under him. Eyes half shut, partly leaned up. Hard, and wet and needy. His tail lashes violently somewhere behind Max - unsatisfied in some other way.

Zeph’s desperate,  and he looks so _good_ like this that Max would keep him like this if he could, but. Max bites his lip.

Rut is a _seasonal_ thing. He may never get another chance at this.

“One second,” Max says, and shuffles away. He’s got to get something to make this work, he’s _going_ to make this work. He has choices, which one does he want? Fuck it, he’ll come up with that in a second, once-

  
Sudden impact sends him kneeling, hitting the soft bedding with a quiet thud.

Once he _gets out_ of here for ten seconds.

Max grunts, and tries to pull away. But between Zeph, nuzzling his neck, and the long tail wrapping around him, keeping him close… Max fumbles for a grip, doesn’t find any escape routes. He... did a really good job. Why would Zeph want that to get away?

Max tugs at the loop of body around him, and it only makes Zeph’s coils tighten. _Nothing_ escapes a naga’s hug.

“Come back to me.” Zeph kisses at Max’s shoulders, his neck, hands roaming over him. Somehow shuffling them deeper into the nest, even when they’re tangled together. He's - his hands slide along Max’s hips, find his dick - and stroke, slowly. Max gasps, shutting his eyes.

It’s. Very distracting! Max tries to keep breathing normally. Zeph’s no expert, he’s slow about it, but his fingers are long and firm and they grip so _nice_.

Max grabs Zeph’s wrist, slowing him with some regret. This is _serious_. “Zeph, wait,” Max says. “I just need a-” He has to stop, gasping, and leaning forward.

Zeph doesn’t know _exactly_ what to do, but he’s smart, and adjusting his grip to be - Max groans.

The mouth against his neck is wet and warm and sucking marks into his skin. Max has to pause, catch his breath. This is good. Really good - but not _enough_ , it could be _more_.

“If you want to _fuck_ me,” Max sits up more and reaches behind himself, grabbing onto Zeph’s waist, pulling him closer. Two hot things bump against his back, and there’s a startled, gasping sound. “Let me go for like, ten seconds.” Max smiles, slightly breathless. “I won’t take long. Promise.”

Zeph hands still. His coils loosen, just the slightest bit.

That worked, incredibely! Max scrambles out, finally escaping. He hears Zeph let out a long, hissing groan, and feels a hand trail over his ankle as he scampers back towards the kitchen. Zeph doesn’t grab, though his fingers twitch.  
  
Kitchen, right - Max is there in a second. He topples over half the things in the cabinet in his frantic rush, but finds what he’s looking for, grinning.

Yes. Oil, that’ll do the trick. It’s going to be great! He’s so glad Zeph let him… Because Zeph is _letting_ Max do this. Sure, he’s eager as anything, but he’s not the one that _started_ it.  
  
Max’s smile falters, briefly.

Zeph _told_ Max not to push things. Then he did it anyway. And Zeph definitely didn’t know all the options either. He could have rubbed up against Max for a few minutes, and call that an evening well-spent. He’s trusting Max to know what he’s doing, rather than just shoving himself up against another warm body. Releasing the person who’s just been so… _nice_ must take a lot of effort. Holding back, despite everything. He’s trusting Max to come _back_ , even when all his instincts scream at him to _not let go_. Controlling himself.

He’s….

Put way more trust in Max than any monster should.

Trusted Max to not take his life, when they met. He trusted Max enough to spend time with him. Whether or not one dangerous, armed and armored human seemed friendly - Max _was_ friendly! - but it’s. Not the wisest decision, for something like Zeph, and he’s wiser than most humans Max knows! And he trusted the food Max brought him. Trusted him enough to be his friend, to avoid harming his fellow nagas. Even trusted Max enough to let him into his _home_ , and let him in, no matter what. His _nest_  is Max’s to rest in, whenever.

Now he’s trusting Max with his _body_.

Max grins.

And if he has anything to say about it, then Zeph will be rewarded for that trust, tenfold.

It’s only fair, considering all they’ve been through, and.. Max can follow through. He thinks he can make this good. He _wants_ to make it good. Maybe if he makes it _really_ good, maybe this won’t have to be just _spring_ -

He hurries back towards the nest, bottle in hand.

Zeph’s waiting there. Coiled, tail twitching. Eyes closed, already half-crawled towards the kitchen, on the edge of the nest. He breathes in through his mouth and instantly rises up, pupils widening as he sees his - whatever Max is to him - return.

Max slides back into the nest with easy confidence. Nothing like having someone who _desperately_ wants you in their bed to make a man feel proud. With Zeph splayed out like this - it’s easy to straddle him, as he raises himself up on his elbows. Zeph sits up immediately, seizing him and kissing him, soundly.

It’s so easy to lean into that kiss, _lick_ into that kiss - Max almost drops the oil before he remembers they’re going to do _more_.

They _are_ friends. Good friends take care of each other. Max is Zeph's  _best_ friend, he’d come to his aid anywhere!

And it’s great to know that Max’s best friend is such a good kisser. He didn’t think nagas did this! It’s a discovery he’d never have made without _Zeph_ to help him.

The oil, though. Max slicks a couple of fingers up, and leans back to - he gasps in a breath as he presses them in. Zeph draws away, he stares at Max’s face. Max smiles reassuringly. “It’s okay, just.” He sucks in a breath through his teeth.  “Just been a while.”

He can feel Zeph’s hand resting on his butt, next to his own. Max shoves the oil at Zeph’s face, watches him fumble, slick up a couple fingers, imitating him.

“Careful,” Max says, a little hesitantly.  He has to hold himself in place, when one, then another of Zeph’s fingers slide in. Oddly gentle, almost exploring. “Oh.” He withdraws his own fingers, startled. He sounds kind of stupid, with how surprised the sound comes out - but he smiles. “Yeah, like-” He licks his lips, and smiles harder. “Like that.”

Zeph’s prying him open, widening his touch. Interested. Max laughs, a little breathlessly, because it’s almost cute, how Zeph’s so curious. So careful - Those fingers stretch, explore, then curl-

Max straightens his back, grabs onto Zeph’s shoulders. “Fuck.” He clenches his teeth, shutting his eyes.

The touch feels so _right_. Zeph must understand what he’s done, maybe by Max’s reaction, because he does it again - Max tenses his legs - and _again_ \- Max pushes back on Zeph’s hand, and gasps for air, legs shaking.

Max has done this before, he didn’t need much to help get ready, but Zeph’s a damned _natural_ at this, he keeps - Max grits his teeth, saying silent. He holds on tighter, he pushes back against it. There’s a rhythm, to what Zeph does to him, and it doesn't stop.

Max sits up straighter, if a little shakily, and pushes Zeph’s hand out, and away, whether or not it makes the snake look frustrated.

Yes. _Now_. Now’s good. His hand is still slick with the oil, he strokes over the smaller cock and starts kneeling, but with a smile.

This one, first. It’ll be easier.

“That’s enough,” Max says, breath coming faster now. “That’s- hold on. Just. I’ve gotta-” He tries to find the right way to sit - grips the cock in one hand, lowering himself down on slightly shaking legs.

There’s something pushing against him - and another, bigger dick sliding against his own, hot and slick. There are scales between his legs, and this -

Max sits down fully with a sharp breath. He searches for words, and shuts his eyes. “Oh.”

Zeph _was_ looking like he wanted to say something, watching Max - now all he manages is swearing. His nails draw red lines down Max’s thighs, scraping down while he arches up. It’s. Oddly hot inside, and outside -

Max presses a hand against Zeph’s larger dick, holding it against his own, that - He groans. it’s another pressure, it makes him shiver. Everything is wet and slick and _tight_.

Time to move. Test things out. Max rises up a bit, then sits back down. He lets out a sharp breath, rolling in place, and bites his lip.

It’s strange. Nothing like a human’s, it’s shaped _weird_ , it hits places men never have. And that _other_ cock, too - Max is full inside, and the _other_ slides against the underside of his dick. Every time he moves, it’s - He braces a hand against Zeph’s stomach, panting gently.

And his hands scramble for purchase when his friend starts moving. They slip on Zeph’s scales, Max has to settle for resting them on Zeph’s shoulders.

“Oh my god.” Max shuts his eyes. He has to clasp his legs around his friend, and hold on.

Zeph is a person, sure. Kind and smart and gentle. But he’s still an impossibly strong _predator_ , and now _Max_ is his target.  
  
Each time Zeph moves, there’s this slow, wet motion against the underside of Max’s dick, where they press together. Another inside him, even more intense, like a _throb_ . A steady, pulsing beat, one that won’t _stop_ . Max grabs onto Zeph’s shoulders, nails digging in, and pushes back each time. He wants _more_ of it, but he’s not in control. All he can do is to hold on, and _take_ it.  
  
He can spare one hand, though. Holding his cock against Zeph's larger one, tight. When they move together, it’s all slide, tight and close and it’s almost, almost enough. Max bites his lip hard, letting the constant pressure center him. He focuses forward, breath heaving in his chest.

Zeph is panting, hard. Eyes shut, head thrown back. Completely without words. That look on his face, the way he can’t stop, the relentless, steady beat of him, underneath Max’s thighs -

“Does it feel good?” Max asks. He has to suck in a sharp breath, because Zeph is rolling under him in waves and - he can’t quite match them, they keep surprising him. “Fuck,” He says, laughing slightly. He’s not in charge, but he can join in, eagerly. Max tightens his legs around Zeph, and his hand on one of his shoulders. “Fuck, _you_ feel good.”  
  
Zeph’s hot inside Max, and sliding against him outside, too, and Max is going to make Zeph come, he’s working for it. He’s going to make this the best spring ever, and it’s feeling like it could be a really good one for Max, too, if he just keeps this up.

“Fuck, you’re- “ He can’t find words, he needs more. “I need it,” He pants, and pushes down. Rocking against this, taking as much as he can. He leans in, and cups Zeph’s face in his hands, kissing at it briefly, rolling against every wave. “I need _you_.”

There’s a long, almost pained sound, as Zeph gasps. Pupils blown wide, mouth working, trying to say something - then gasping, throwing his head back. Zeph surges up - eyes shut, almost shaking. Hands tightening on Max’s hips as his tail writhes.

And when Max feels Zeph pulse inside him - he pushes his hips down into it, riding the thrusts, the warm, tight throb- He groans, sucks in a breath through his teeth.

“Yeah,” Max pulls in a breath, almost laughing, shoving himself down more - “Yeah, that’s-” He leans in, and _groans_ , grinding himself down. He wants to feel more, and with Zeph panting underneath him it’s - “Fuck.” Max shuts his eyes. “That's good.

He wanted to feel good, for his friend, and he _has_. It’s weird, and not human. _Way_ more satisfying, and wetly pleasant.

Beneath him, Zeph pants, and starts writhing, slow. The end of tail starts moving around. It twitches upwards. Then left, then right. Reaches out, stretches, and pulls back. Each time it fails to meet something, it seems to get more insistent. It flails and curls, randomly searching -  Max shifts his legs, but they can’t stretch out, or catch the thing.

No response means… something, to nagas. Zeph’s jaw is tight, he’s moving. He needs to _grab_ something - A thought strikes Max.

When the tip of Zeph’s tail passes by, Max catches it, squeezing the tip between his fingers.

Then grimaces.Ow. That’s tight.

The second Zeph’s tail got purchase on something, it ended up wrapped around Max’s arm.  There are scales clamped over his wrist, up his arm, heck - all the way up to the bicep.

But that stopped the flailing. There’s a solid grip, and his arm is practically strangled in Zeph’s hug. Loose, then tightening around it more in  a slow, steady rhythm. It’s squeezing the life out of him, and Zeph finally lies back, eyes shut. 

Max grins, with a bit of a wince. Zeph is _strong_. This substitute calms him down, but it’s still rough to handle. Good thing Max can handle _anything_! He sits up on his knees, and smiles, rubbing over Zeph’s scales with his other hand.

“I hope that did it for you,” Max grins, and shuffles himself up to rest on his knees and he. Shifts, cock uncomfortably hard. “I-” He clears his throat.

If Zeph wants to do it again, then Max would _absolutely_ be up for it, there’s. That could go so well, it’s got a lot of potential… and Zeph'd learn everything, fast. Max glances down. At least one of them _looks_ like it’s still up for things, he can’t be sure if that means what he thinks.

The tail around his arm pulls suddenly, and Max hits the bedding hard enough to drive the breath out of his chest. He almost faceplants into the soft cloth, barely catching himself on one elbow, his other arm drawn back by Zeph’s grip.

Zeph is - Max swallows, panting. Behind him. Pushing him down, and holding on, there are tight hands on Max’s hips. He tries to sit up, but there’s a long, low, angry hiss. Wordlessly commanding. One of Zeph’s palms between his shoulders shoves him chest down again.

Max stills, heart pounding. He lets his legs spread a little more under the pressure on his back. Lowering himself. When Zeph pushes in again, it’s... Max bites his lip.

Not hard, or sudden. Just firm. Irresistible, it presses in, stretching him, slips deep - _so_ deep, Max twitches, feeling it sliding inside him. _All_ the way in, until he feels Zeph’s scales against him again. All of it hot, and hard, and the shape works so well - Max rolls his hips - Zeph gives a thrust forward that makes Max let out a noise he’s _never_ made. He shuts his eyes and _whimpers_.

Zeph’s fingers, gripping at Max’s skin, tighten slightly, and dig in. Just enough to hurt, not enough to bruise. Their hips rock against each other, slowly.

Max isn’t sure when he started breathing this hard, eyes shut tight. He grips the cloth underneath him, because Zeph’s - Max whines through his clenched teeth - testing him. Pressing into him, rolling in place, as Zeph feels as much as he can, every inch of Max that he can reach -

Until he pulls back to thrust, hard and rough, with every part of that muscled body behind it.

Max barely holds himself upright, he has to brace himself to keep steady. He has to let out a helpless moan, grit his teeth. It’s a fight all by itself, trying to keep from being crushed into the cushions, and this stretch, and this -

He groans. It’s doing everything _right_ , it’s a hot sweet stroke inside him, his cock is hard and every thrust hits him _exactly_ right, every time, it 's a jolt of pleasure up his spine every time he drives in again, as hard as it is to hold up against it. Max can feel himself dripping, he gasps for air. Almost wants to ask Zeph to slow _down_ , draw things out, but that’s pointless.

Zeph was holding back, before.

Now he’s not.

Max is probably going to be bruised on the arm he’s holding himself up with, he has to pant for breath. His muscles feel hot in the way that makes him sure they’ll ache later. He’s being pounded inside, in a way that makes him have to whimper, _again_ , because it’s rough and solid and sends a rapid beat of yes, good, _yes_ deep inside him,right to his dick, he’s going to come if this keeps up. Max buries his face in the bedding, rocking back against Zeph erratically, tensing up his legs.

Oh hell, it’s _going_ to keep up, relentless, Max fumbles for a tighter grasp on something, anything, and fails.

This is _rut_.

Zeph’s not going to stop. Maybe he _can’t_ stop. There are soft, pleased sounds behind Max, nothing like words. Zeph, letting his... _friend_ knows how it feels. How much he likes it. He sounds like he _really_ likes it, acts like he _loves_ it, Zeph is inside Max, deep, scales shoving hard against his thighs.

Max _encouraged_ this, he _wanted_ this. He still wants it. But it’s different than he thought. Rougher, and. And this - He shudders, trying to keep his face from being shoved into the bedding.  His arms shake, he tightens and feels Zeph in him, even closer.

It's hard to stay upright, and Zeph’s not helping, he’s heavy and rough and it’s hard to take. But Max  _can do_ it. He’s making sounds he can’t stop. His muscles already burn, trying to stay in place. He’s so _fucking_ hard, he needs just a little harder, a little stronger, a little _more_ , he’s at the edge and he can’t find the right way to make Zeph shove him _over_ , not when can barely move his hips.

“Please,” Max presses against his friend, clenching his jaw. Only a little more, a little _better_ \- Max’s legs twitch, they tense. He needs words, to tell Zeph how he’s great, tell him what he _needs_ , but he can’t find the words, or think. All he can say is, “ _Please_.”

Maybe Zeph didn’t know all his options. Maybe he wasn’t certain how it’d work. But he _is_ smart, even when other nagas can’t keep sane in spring, Zeph has some _control_ -

And the awkward, strong slide of fingers down the underside of Max’s dick sends him shoving back against Zeph with a gasp.Max’s body shakes, he can’t keep upright, shoved to the ground under Zeph’s thrusts, and _whimpering._ Coming with a shudder, his dick twitching as he spills all over the bedding, with Zeph scales-deep in Max he feels so _good_.

Zeph grips his hips tighter, and that long scaly body pushes against him, shuddering, and throbbing inside -

Oh. Max huffs out a soft breath. He already felt hot inside. Now it’s hotter.

Between Zeph’s weight, and how weak his limbs feel - Max shivers, and slowly lets himself collapse. Zeph follows him, still pressed tight against him, deep inside.

He feels Zeph jolt against him a couple more times, twitching.

Max lies in place. Sprawled over parts of his snake. Partially trying to catch his breath, partially…

Tired.

This was. More than he’d expected.

Now his legs hurt, a little. His arm aches. He’s never felt anything like that before, so intense, and startling. He’s certainly not complaining, but he’s exhausted. He lies where he is, breathing slow. He could move, but with Zeph around him, over him, behind him - The weight that seemed so dangerous feels comforting, now. He doesn’t _want_ to move.

There's slow kisses, trailing down his neck. Then over his shoulders, and back again. Zeph leans in, rubbing his cheek against Max’s. Being affectionate towards his... Friend. He feels Zeph's coils tighten, as he presses his mouth against Max's neck, tasting him.

Max yelps, tense - He reaches up, touches his neck. 

But it was only one moment.

Zeph's already drawn away, nosing against him again. Max winces. He's been bitten, sharp. It hurt, sure, but it didn’t break his skin.

It’s just Zeph, post-sex, pleased. Humming something low, and rubbing up against Max in a lot of ways. Kind of… Max grunts, and squirms a little. He tilts his head away, lets it happen, but he’s somewhat surprised.

This is new! Zeph rarely touches. Mostly _Max_ is the one to offer a hug, or to pet those scales, and Zeph slithers away. Now that they’ve -

Max feels his snake press soft kisses over him, and, weirdly, _lick_ him a few times - his face feels hot.

Things are different, now.

In a way Max can’t quite place.

Zeph's apparently decided that touching is _entirely_ allowed, he’s doing a lot of it. His hands rub up Max’s back, and down again, digging in - they leave his muscles less tense in their wake. Max groans, feeling tense bits of him release under the touch.

Oh hell yes. That’s… That’s nice. Max relaxes, shutting his eyes. Different from how they were before, sure, but this is great! So close, and warm, and nice. All pleasant touch, he is _definitely_ not complaining.

Zeph breathes in, slow, nosing againsts against Max's neck, then lower, along his shoulders, letting out a low, pleased sound as he slides out with a wet noise that’s frankly obscene. Zeph's calming down, arms wrapping around him -

Only to be a complete disappointment by pulling away, _again_.

Max groans, rolling his head to one side. Now Zeph’s left a rather unpleasant, cold space between them. He almost wants to complain.

But he’s tired. Why move. He’s in a good place right now, and the bedding underneath him is soft. Most of the touching stops, and Max lets his head loll to one side with a frown. Zeph’s hands simply rest on his shoulders, and Max lets out a long, complaining groan.

Why use words, they’re hard when he’s this wrung out. His muscles burn from keeping up with Zeph, in a pleasant way, and he’s. He’s just had a _great_ time. Zeph didn’t even _know_ fucking Max _was_ an option before he was told. All things considered, Zeph deserves a medal for his performance.

Maybe with a little practice... Maybe a _lot_ of practice. Max bites his lip. If Zeph’s interested, that’s a _great_ idea.

He'll run it by him. In a second. _Tactfully_.

“I.” Zeph’s voice sounds tight, and strained. His tail curls slightly around Max’s legs, but he’s pulled most of himself away. Raised up, no doubt, behind Max, where he can’t see. One of Zeph’s hands tucks itself around Max’s side, and when Zeph tries to flip Max onto his back, carefully nudging him over -

Max rolls with it, flopping around, arms spread out at his sides. He meets his snake’s eyes.

“Are you-” Zeph starts. And stops.His pupils are still wide. His chest heaves, still trying to catch his breath. He’s staring at Max with interest - Though now it’s less admiring. More tense, more like.

Oh hell. This lazy, stupid snake. Like Zeph could ever hurt him.

Max still wants to reach up, and _kiss_ his friend into senselessness again. A little reassurance would be the right thing to do, but it’s so... _dumb._

“I am vanquished!” Max declares, raising his arms - then shuts his eyes, collapsing back. He peeks an eye open after a beat or two. “A hero, defeated"

Confusion's a way better look on this snake than concern. 

Zeph’s frowning. He hikes his hands up underneath Max’s arms, trying to make him sit up straight. He’s looking Max over, brows furrowed. Max keeps a straight face, though he has to press his lips tight so he doesn’t ruin it."What are you-"

Max wriggles his way,out of Zeph’s grasp. Maybe he’s trying not to laugh, but he’s comfy here and he doesn’t want to sit up..Max snorts, and continues. "You were far too strong, and _virile_ for the likes of a human.”

“ _Max_ ,” Zeph interrupts, he rubs at the bridge of his nose.

“The  _devastating_ thrusts of your-” Max starts, wigging his eyebrows- Zeph claps a hand over Max’s mouth.

“I see you’re feeling fine,” He says, very dry. Max pouts a little, but at least he doesn’t look worried anymore.

Annoyed, perhaps, but watching him trying _so hard_ to glare, only for it to keep faltering into something like relief is always amusing. Max reaches up to buries his fingers in Zeph’s hair, just to ruffle it up into that unruly bedhead again. Zeph only watches Max's face for a while, completely ignores the way his hair is being messed up. Disappointing! Max had wanted him to protest, for fun -

With a sigh, Zeph hums, long and low. Sounding content as he presses his face into Max’s shoulder. Max keeps one hand buried in Zeph's hair, just to touch. He can smile honestly, now.

This is good, too.

“What a powerful beast I have faced,” Max scolds anyway, grinning. “I was a fool to think I could resist you.” He leans back, resting the back of one hand against his forehead - partly for the drama -

And partly to watch Zeph roll his eyes at him. Unimpressed, but fond. Zeph lifts himself further. Eyes half-lidded, tongue flickering out.

Of course. Max shuts his eyes, lets the kiss happen. Maybe licks into it more than is entirely appropriate. For friends. Though if Zeph's bothered by it, it doesn't show. If anything, he seems _happy_ , and  _Max_ certainly has nothing to complain about. 

Well. That settles it. 

Max shrugs it off. Who cares _what_ Zeph is, or whatever's going on here, or anything. Words aren't Max's domain, let Zeph worry about it. Max is a man of _action_.

He plants a kiss on his ridiculous, lazy snake’s cheek, and feels Zeph start to make that low, pleased hiss again.  As long as they’re close - Max licks Zeph back, hears a soft, surprised sound. Zeph tastes nice, Max thinks. Honestly, he prefers kissing. Maybe it's a snake thing. Cuddling up to Zeph is easy enough. It'd be harder _not_ to, that tail wraps around any part of Max in range. 

But Max has a plan of _attack._

This time he's taking a page from Zeph's book.

“I think.” Max holds his breath, trying not to yawn. He pats Zeph a couple of times settling down. “I gotta….”

“What?” Zeph's - Urgh. Max gets it, he's worried but naga hugs are.

Max grimaces. He taps the scales a couple of times. Coughs, once, before the grasp around him loosens.

“Gotta…” Get comfortable in _this_ way - Max tries to pull more of Zeph’s tail around him, hauling that long, scaly muscled bit around until it _sort of_ fits what he has in mind. There’s enough of Zeph for him to be a big, weird, armored pillow.

Thankfully, Zeph doesn’t protest. He does makes an odd noise when Max kisses him between his shoulder and his neck, but through all of it - he doesn’t resist any of his manhandling at the hands of well. A  _man_. A quick push gets Zeph lying, human bit down, on the bedding. Close enough for Max to lean in in just the right way. The coils are positioned right, Zeph's chest is within reach. Max trails a hand down it, as he finally gets Zeph settled around him to his liking.

Perfect.

Zeph’s been patient through the brief ordeal. Now he blinks, staring. 

“Remind me to bring you blankets,” Max mutters. This is good, but Zeph's scales suck in heat like anything. It really  _could_ be warmer. He sighs anyway, snuggling close. Cool, scaly pillow in place. “Good night, Zeph.”

“It’s afternoon,” Zeph says, raising an eyebrow. 

That is _far_ besides the point, and Zeph knows it. “You had your turn,” Max mumbles, jabbing Zeph in the chest with one finger. Months of it, at that. He smacks his snake on the the side, shuffles closer. “'s my turn now.”

The tip of Zeph’s tail wraps around his hand, running over and around it. Stroking against his palm in slow sweeps. Likely that was involuntary, because Zeph gives it a slightly annoyed glare. He glances at Max - and when he sees the grin, both he and his tailtip settle down. Trying to be dignified. It makes Max snort.

This is _exactly_ what Max has wanted. For a while. Because... 

This is  _Zeph._ He's a bizarre, abnormal naga. Too strong, too magical, too strange, - And all it took to get this wrapped around him was a little _help_ , it's the best idea Max has had since. Maybe since trusting Zeph, when they first met.

Whatever Zeph thinks about the season. Max has always enjoyed spring. Everything warms up, and grows, full of new adventures, new opportunities. Everything's so lively! Everything _changing_.

When Max shuts his eyes, he thinks he feels Zeph stroke his hair, murmuring something. Max can't hear it, doesn't really care, in any case. He mumbles something himself, and rests against these cool scales. Zeph was right about _one_ thing. 

A nice, warm, spring afternoon?

Is the _perfect_ time to take a nap.

**Author's Note:**

> My New Year's Resolution was to write an original thing. It ended up being smut, and rather silly. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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